Sometimes, I just don’t have the words. When that happens, I rely on other people’s. This favorite quotation could easily be my personal motto:
“Always be on the lookout for the presence of wonder.” – E. B. White
76/365: ice patterns, refreeze, minnehaha creek
Yesterday’s remains looked like old, bleached bones to me. Today’s papery tomatillo husks reminded me more of snake skins, all dried up and left behind in the dirt. But then there’s that intricate lacey map of veins, so like blood vessels, like a record of the life that coursed through this tomatillo ghost town.
74/365: tomatillo husks
It was written in the receding line of snow at our neighborhood sledding hill – the last day of sledding for a while. Maybe for the season. With a string of 50 degree days ahead, the world is utterly transformed.
66/365: sledding hill
Today’s post title is also the title of a song by The Head & the Heart. We fell in love with this band after seeing them play live at Festival Palomino last fall.
While the East Coast keeps getting hammered with snow storms, we in the Midwest have less than half our average snowfall – a measly 15-or-so inches. Frankly, it limits outdoor entertainment options considerably. Fingers crossed for March…
59/365: snow drought
There are days when sunlight is an event. Yesterday was one of those days. This warm yellow-green color made me smile; it was like seeing an old friend I’d been missing.
58/365: sunlight on evergreens
Sometimes the subject is line, shape, form, tone, texture, pattern and color. I just need to see it.
57/365: winter copse
Over the last week, our cabin fever got LITERAL. The virus moved through our family one by one while another cold snap raged outside. The need to spread out and breathe fresh air is palpable.
It is this late stage of winter when fatigue sets in. Gut check time. 23 days till spring. We got this.
56/365: portrait of the artist in cozy socks
I can get lost in a picture like this. In my mind’s eye, I am high above the earth, gazing down at the terrible power of churning ocean waves dark with storm when, in reality, I’m out for an afternoon stroll on the frozen creek.
As Anatole France put it, “Imagination is everything.”
54/365: ice/ocean
View through the window at dusk. Branches near and far. Blue-gray falling light.
Inspired by an intense desire to NOT leave the house.
53/365: dusk
Yesterday on our walk, we came across this collaboration of grass, wind & snow. We watched as the bracing wind transformed the dried blades of grass into precision instruments, guiding their swaying movements like an invisible compass to etch these perfect arcs into the snow.
52/365: wind pattern
avant garden 365 